


Star Sickness

by VictimofNostalgia



Series: Pyre and Home [2]
Category: Pyre (Video Game)
Genre: And when an angry old man has been taunting you in your sleep, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, I have to imagine that conducting to rites takes it out of you, Sleep Deprivation, Telepathy, especially since the reader is basically using mind control, just a touch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 20:50:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11905977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictimofNostalgia/pseuds/VictimofNostalgia
Summary: The stars are fading fast, the Rites happening sooner and sooner, and it was only a matter of time before it took its toll on the Nightwings' Reader.





	Star Sickness

To the outside spectator the Rites didn’t look like much. It seemed less a high-stakes battle than like a flashy children’s schoolyard game. But to those who participated, those who’s freedom counted on their success, it was a trial that drained body, mind, and soul. There were few who could handle the trepidation of throwing themselves to the devouring flame, and all who did returned from the oblivion of banishment feeling as though they had left a piece of themselves in the darkness.

The Reader, who stood on the edge of the arena, Book in hand, could easily be accused of being unknowing. But then, Readers were few and far between in the Downside these days, and little knew of what they were capable of.

While initially appearing as though she were simply watching, a close observer would see that the Reader’s eyes were glassy as she stared out at the arena, face twitching with flashes of emotions that weren’t necessarily her own. It was her mind that guided the Nightwings and helped them to move as one, and as such their thoughts crashed up against the walls of her mind in a constant barrage. 

Gilman’s surprise was cut off in a brief spark as The Chastity’s aura sent him plunging into the void and was quickly washed aside by the tide of Jodariel’s fury. The Rite had dragged on for a long while, The Chastity having learned from their last encounter, and though both Pyres burned low it was a close thing. All the while the Voice sneered from on high.

Ti’zo’s thoughts flared in savage triumph for but a moment before the explosion of his own aura sent him hurtling into oblivion just as Gilman’s bright mind sparked back up against The Reader’s. She directed him through Ti’zo’s dissipating aura to snatch the Celestial orb where it lay abandoned and swiftly around Manley’s hastily thrown up defenses to cast himself and the orb into the flames. The Pyre erupted with a cloud of magenta smoke and went out like a snuffed candle.

“And so it appears the Nightwings are victorious again,” the Voice said, grinding the words through invisible gritted teeth. 

“Rest on your laurels while you still can.” the threat was hardly a new one at this point, but no less obnoxious. Bertrude hissed under her breath but did nothing to grace it with a reply.

“Until the stars align,” came his bitter send off, and silence finally descended. The Reader blinked, breathing a sigh and letting the book fall shut in her hands…

…Just before she tipped over and collapsed into the dirt.

 

The triumvirate all felt the connection to the Reader’s mind sever, but Jodariel was the first to jump into action, cutting off Manley halfway through his affronted rant. The Nightwings clustered as she gently lifted the limp Reader into her arms, tapping gently at the woman’s cheek. The Reader failed to so much as twitch, laying pale and drawn in Jodi’s arms.

“Stubborn woman,” Jodi spat, with more exasperation than actual anger. “Why didn’t she tell us that something was wrong?”

“You should know her better than that by now Jodariel,” Volfred said as he came to her side. “Her first priority has always been the completion of the Rites. All else comes secondary.” He laid a knobby hand across the Reader’s forehead and hummed thoughtfully, “She told me she hadn’t been sleeping well, though I had no idea it had gotten this bad. The strain of conducting the Rites must have been too much for her.” He snorted, sounding strangely impressed. “She’s gotten good at hiding her thoughts from me.”

“What do we do?” Sir Gilman asked, wriggling nervously beside Jodariel’s elbow. “Our dear Master-Reader’s health is most important! This knight can’t imagine what we’d do without her!”

“Calm yourself Sir Gilman,” Volfred said with a chuckle. “She simply needs to rest. And,” he paused and tilted his head to look up into the heavens, “for someone to keep her tormentor at bay.”

“‘Tormentor’?” Jodariel echoed, moving to stand with the Reader bundled carefully in her arms.

“The Voice has been invading her dreams of late,” Volfred explained, leading the way back to the blackwagon. “His taunts keep her awake. Likely this has been his goal, to run her into the ground to deprive the Nightwings of our Reader and thus ruin our Plan.” He slowed, feeling Jodariel’s eyes smolder in the back of his head. “It is perhaps my fault. The moment I donned the Raiments the Voice knew of my involvement. It’s clear he’s willing to go to some lengths to stop me.” He straightened, adjusting his coat and giving Jodi a tight smile. “I suppose this just makes it all the more worth it to get in his way. Bertrude and I will work to shield the Reader’s mind tonight, won’t we Bertrude?”

The Bog-Crone hissed, glaring scornfully up at the night sky. “Aye. We ssssshall not allow the treacherous Voice to have the lassssst laugh.”

Jodariel was silent as she carried the Reader back into the wagon and settled her into the nest of blankets. Ti’zo alighted on her shoulder and chirruped softly with concern. 

“She will be fine Ti’zo,” she told the imp as she settled into the large wicker chair nearby to keep watch. “Nothing will disturb her. Not while I’m here.”

 

The Reader slept long, through the rising of the sun and well into its trip across the sky. When finally she stirred it was beginning its descent towards the western horizon. With a rough groan she turned over, blinking bleary, crusted eyes at the ceiling of the blackwagon.

“You’re finally awake.” The Reader turned toward the voice to find Jodariel, still wearing her Raiments, slouched in the wicker chair beside her.

“Jodi?” she croaked, sitting up stiffly and running a hand through sleep-tangled hair. “What? What time is it? What happened?” 

“You fainted after the last Rite and have been sleeping since then,” Jodi said, leaning forward and fixing the Reader with an icy glare. “Why didn’t you let us know that the Voice was keeping you awake?”

The Reader flushed under the intense stare, plucking at the wrappings around her left arm in her usual nervous habit. “What could have been done about it?” she muttered. “The Voice is far more powerful than I am.”

“Perhaps so,” Jodi said. “But that does not mean that the rest of us would have sat back and let it continue. And you’re forgetting; Sandalwood and the Bog-Crone have power of their own. They’ve stayed up all night guarding your dreams against the Voice’s intrusion.”

The Reader’s eyes grew wide, brimming with equal parts amazement and guilt, before she looked away, fingers tightening in the folds of the blanket. “They didn’t need to do that,” she said softly. “You all need all your strength for the Rites.”

Jodi snorted. “You say that as though you do not need yours. Again you forget Reader. Not all of us participate in every Rite. _You_ do, however.”

The Reader opened her mouth as though to argue the point, saw the stony look on Jodi’s face and closed it again. They’d had this conversation before; The Reader’s self-doubt was counterpoint to her own goals, and if she wanted to accomplish them she needed to accept her own importance with the Nightwings, no matter how hard it was for her to do so. But that was only part of her reasons for staying silent.

“There’s so little time Jodi,” she said. “The stars are fading so fast. I can’t tell how many more chances we’ll have at the Liberation Rite. We have to keep going now, before we can’t anymore.”

“I agree with you that time is of the essence,” Jodi replied, reaching out gently to take the Reader’s chin in her hand to make the woman look at her, “but that still isn’t an excuse to allow yourself to be run ragged. You must take care of yourself, for all of our sakes.”

“But what if it doesn’t even matter in the end? If I fail, what would even be the point?” The Reader asked pleadingly.

“What happens will happen,” Jodi told her, slowly and softly. “We all have the utmost faith that you will do what you believe you must.”

The Reader sighed, leaning slightly into Jodi’s hand. “Sometimes I wish you didn’t.”

Jodi let out a dry chuckle. “We all wish for things Reader,” she said. “And right now it is my wish that you get out of bed and join us all outside for a meal.”

Stifling a tired laugh, the Reader took Jodi’s hand and let the demon woman pull her from the blankets and out of the blackwagon into the afternoon sunshine. The others called out in greeting from around the cooking fire, and the Reader’s stomach rumbled loudly at the smell of food. She sat and talked and laughed among the Nightwings and prayed the day to last just a bit longer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ask and ye shall receive. Thanks to everyone who read and commented and left kudos on my other Pyre fic; its because of you that the inspiration comes to write more.  
> The Rites are such an interesting concept and I wanted to try my hand at least a little at trying to describe it. I'm sure its not actually as tame as it appears in-game, and those who participate have got to feel the effects after a while.  
> Plus more Jodariel and the Reader being doting and cute because I need it in my life.


End file.
